Trapped
by HannahEccles
Summary: Crowley has an unexpected trip to Chester Zoo.


Trapped  
  
Crowley and Hastur both belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. (Unfortunately). PG13 for stuff that may or may not happen and language. I have nothing against Chester Zoo or any people who work for them.  
  
The notice read as follows:  
  
NEW SPECIES OF SNAKE:  
  
NAME: BLACK BOA  
  
AGE: UNCERTAIN FOUND: ZIMBABWE  
  
  
  
*How could I have been so stupid as to have got caught! * The snake thought to itself, flicking its tongue out to taste the air. There was a scrape as it tried to dislodge the red jewel embedded in its side, the only thing preventing Crowley from abandoning his current shape.  
  
Human beings peered at him curiously through the glass window.  
  
* * * * *  
  
*One week beforehand: *  
  
Hastur nodded very slightly, bowed, and left Beelzebub's personal quarters, feeling more than a little joyous at the task assigned to him.  
  
* * * * *  
  
*Six hours later: *  
  
Samuel Johnson was head of a party of researchers employed by Chester Zoo to find, capture and transport new species of wild animal.  
  
So far they hadn't done very well.  
  
In the whole month that they had spent deep in the jungles of Zimbabwe, all they had found was an interesting type of vine, that when touched, brought the animal touching it a serious bout of boils in an embarrassing, inconvenient and painful part of the human anatomy.  
  
As soon as the reseachers had found it, they had dutifully rung up the species specialist in Chester to see what to call it.  
  
They had decided to call it "Jungle Boil Ivy".  
  
Johnson had personally named it "Bloody Annoying, Itchy And Painful", but not in those exact words or indeed any others that could replace the neat rows of dots, dashes and stars of the original name.  
  
He shifted uncomfortably and was aware of a passing sensation that felt as though ice-cubes were very slowly sliding down his limbs and torso.  
  
And then the world went black.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Crowley had forgotten what it was like to be in the form of a snake.  
  
The serious disadvantage was that snakes didn't have any limbs.  
  
One of the advantages was that when you are fifteen feet long and built like a boa constrictor with a mouth full of enough venom to poison a small continent, people tend to give you a bit of a wide berth.  
  
He was currently indulging in one of what he thought was the greatest pleasures of life.  
  
He stretched out slightly in order to expose more of his body to the sun, which lay in thick coils on a very warm rock.  
  
He felt the sound of people coming towards him.  
  
Crowley stretched out a bit more, opened his eyes, and yawned, exposing three-inch fangs.  
  
Crowley watched the hunters, slightly confused that his display hadn't got the desired reaction.  
  
Instead, the researchers simply looked at him slightly curiously.  
  
Crowley raised his head, as though poised to strike, and spat venom and curses at them.  
  
They stared at him stupidly, almost bucolically.  
  
"You know, you'll probably get a sore throat if you keep doing that, Crawly".  
  
Crowley whipped round.  
  
A man dressed in army trousers and a khaki-coloured shirt was standing just two metres away from Crowley.  
  
Crowley flicked his tongue out again and again. The man reeked of humanity, but he had used the name "Crawly" which meant that either someone had told him about the demon or.....  
  
*Oh shit*, He thought, I thought that possession was long ago out of fashion.  
  
*It was*, Hastur's voice arrived in his head, *but you've got to wonder why it was so popular for a while*.  
  
Crowley glanced at the rest of the researchers. *And you've got them under your power as well, have you? *  
  
*Only temporarily*.  
  
*How long for? *.  
  
*Until we catch you*.  
  
At this, the possessed man walked forwards suddenly and gripped Crowley's tail, winding him in as he did so.  
  
Crowley's head whipped backwards and darted forwards and the part of Samuel Johnson that was still inside his own body screamed in pain and terror as he felt the three-inch fangs slide neatly into his wrist and out the other side.  
  
He screamed again as he felt the venom being injected forcefully through his arm, he looked down and saw that the skin around the bite was black and looked as though it had been charred. He let go of the coils of snake that he had been gripping to the ground and Crowley let go of his wrist.  
  
*  
  
Hastur left Johnson for dead. He raced from mind to mind of the researchers, ordering each one to perform an individual task such as running forwards, stepping back, going in to grab the snake, withdrawing as Crowley's head whipped round to bite.  
  
*  
  
Crowley whirled round in a circle, trying to sense Hastur's mind as it ducked and weaved from person to person.  
  
He jumped forwards suddenly as one of the people went forwards to grab the snake by the tail again but the man leapt back again when faced with a mouth full of fangs.  
  
Crowley was very slightly aware that he was being herded towards a huge wooded crate.  
  
* * *  
  
Samuel Johnson watched as, half an hour later, the army vehicle that had been used to transport the researchers pulled away, despite him yelling out to them to stop.  
  
He lay in the churned-up mud for some amount of time whilst he felt his whole right side of his body go numb.  
  
He looked down at his arm which had gone blue-ish black and tried to think of any first aid that would help stop the poison reaching anywhere vital.  
  
He passed out as it slowly crept into his brain.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The jewel implanted in between two of Crowley's ribs glinted redly in the weak sunshine emanating from the high window in his enclosure. 


End file.
